Live Learn Rinse Repeat
by Euphro
Summary: How do you describe growth, disappointment, patience, support, friendship, family? In a series of oneshots, Artie narrates experiences with the people with whom he's closest. Season 1 is taken into account. Season 2 is not. Overall Artie/Tina presence.
1. Chapter 1: Baby of the Family

A/N: Generally speaking, I love fleshing out the family of characters. When I consider Artie, I find the fleshing out comes out in an odd way, but I'm just going to go with it. This snippet begins four years ago. Many, many thanks to both Maggie for her amazing ideas and complete support (not to mention daily conversations and all that goes with them), as well as to Jamie for being so wonderful at edits, readings, and prompts. Rabid sheep?

Disclaimer: I am taking s1 of Glee into account. I've seen some of the spoilers for s2 and I'm ignoring them, at least until I see what's going on there.

* * *

I'm not supposed to be here right now. Right now, I'm supposed to be at home with Charlie. He was going to teach me a new song on my guitar. I know a lot of songs already. Lots of classical guitar sorts of things, I guess. I'm really good at a few Elton John songs, and some Beatles, but I want to start playing more current stuff, and harder stuff. Stuff you can't just play on the regular guitar. Charlie was supposed to show me all sorts of new songs, like hard rock songs. I really want to start playing those.

Instead we're at the hospital. Not a great substitute.

Sometimes, when my family is in the hospital, it's because of me. But other times we've been here because someone's really sick, like when my great uncle died two years ago. He had cancer. My grandpa has cancer too, but they say the doctors caught it pretty early and have been using all sorts of medication to keep it manageable, which I guess means it can't go away, but I'm not sure.

But no one's sick, so that's good. The other reason we come to hospitals is because someone's having a baby. And a lot of the time, I don't have to go because I'm in school or something. But it's summer break now, and we've been in the waiting room for a couple of hours. Mom told me I couldn't bring my guitar, though I used to play a little bit when I had to stay in a hospital after the accident. I don't think people would have minded, and I could have learned some songs. She told me I could bring some books, though, and that's good because the magazines here are really boring.

I think I've gotten used to hospitals by now. Some people say they just hate going to them. Something about the smell, or the really annoying lights, or just being around so many sick people. Hospitals aren't very cheery by design, and no amount of bright sunny balloons will help with that. But I know a lot of good things happen in hospitals too. If it weren't for the doctors and nurses in hospitals, a lot of people wouldn't be living. Hospitals are where you go to get better, if you can get better at all.

I brought the first book from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I started reading it a couple of days ago after I finished _The Hobbit_. I've seen the Lord of the Rings movies too but never read the books. I guess that's weird, because I've read all the Harry Potter books that are out, and I've seen all the Harry Potter movies. Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings are different, but I like them both. But reading Harry Potter was easier. Lord of the Rings looks longer, even if there are only three books, and it's harder. It's not hard for me to concentrate in the waiting room of the hospital.

Frodo and his friends are just entering the forest when I look up and see some of my cousins are there. Sarah has already been here for awhile. She's reading a book with Lewis, who's five years old, and her mom has Ian, his brother, who's six. Their mom is the one having a baby. Bethany was sitting next to Sarah, but she got up because Charlie and Daniel and their parents walked through the door. I want to say hi to Charlie, but Daniel and I still don't talk, so I stay where I am and look down at my book. I'm suddenly really mad all over again, and I stare at the words on the pages, but I can't read them and I don't want to, either.

Bethany comes over and tells me they're going to play cards, and do I want to play too. I think she must carry a pack of cards with her everywhere she goes, because she always seems to have one. We use a round table and start playing Go Fish because we don't have any candy to play poker. Daniel doesn't ask me for cards, even when he knows I'm holding the card he wants. But playing here means we can ask either Charlie or Bethany, and I'd rather talk to them anyway.

I hate that he won't even look at me. Like I'm not even there. But I know he knows I'm there, because I must be one of the first people anyone sees, even if I seem shorter than pretty much everyone, but I know I'm not because I'm over five feet tall. Is he mad at me? Whenever I ask anyone, they tell me he's not mad, but he must be. But ever since the accident, it's never been the same. I don't know what I did wrong. And he won't tell me. So I don't talk to him, and he doesn't talk to me.

Suddenly everyone is standing up. I look behind me and see Uncle Harvey in a blue hospital gown with a mask hanging around his neck. He tells us that Aunt Serena is fine, and that she just had their new baby, a girl they've named Doreen. There's a lot of clapping and some crying (I don't know why Sarah's crying) and plenty of hugging.

Now we all have to stay to say hi to Aunt Serena and to the new baby. I'm not sure why, because it's not like the baby will remember, and Aunt Susan says that Aunt Serena won't remember either, not after all the stuff they put in her and all that she went through. Which is a lot. I remember that from sex education, and I wonder if it was like that for Aunt Serena when she had Ian and Lewis.

Uncle Harvey brings their two kids in first to see their mom and the new baby. I figure each person will get a chance to see them, but since I'm not really close to them, it won't be awhile until I go in, and by then Aunt Serena will be really tired and won't want company.

But Uncle Harvey comes out, gives his sons to other people to hold, and walks over to me. "Do you want to go see your new cousin?" he asks me.

"Sure."

Aunt Serena is in the same room she was in before, but they'd moved her to a delivery room when it was time for her to have Doreen. Now she's back in her room again, and she looks really tired. Her hair is wet and she looks kind of small in her hospital gown. But she looks really happy as she holds a bundled blanket against her stomach. She looks up and beams at me, like I'm just the person she wanted to see, and no on ever looks at me like that.

"Artie, this is Doreen," she says.

Uncle Harvey puts me right next to the hospital bed, and even then, I have to push myself up and lean forward. The blanket she was holding against her actually contains the baby, a small pink-faced person that looks more alien than human. She almost looks fake, or like the best baby imitation in a great movie, until she scrunches her face and yawns.

"Hi, Doreen," I say. I don't know why I said it. She wasn't going to say anything back to me.

"Would you like to hold her, Artie?"

I stare at Aunt Serena. "Me?" She nods and starts to shift. "But I don't know how to."

"Just make a half circle with your arms, honey. That's it."

Uncle Harvey comes over and takes Doreen in his arms, and he carefully gives her to me. I don't know if I thought she'd be heavy or if it would be like hugging air. But it's not either one. When I don't move my arms, Uncle Harvey pushes them up around Doreen so that she won't fall out. Even through that blanket and my clothes, I can feel her squirm a little to get comfortable. She opens her eyes and looks at me.

"Did you name her after grandma?"

"Yes, we did."

"Will she have blue eyes, like us?"

"Maybe."

"Can I touch her too?"

"Go ahead."

I move my hand to touch her cheek, but I think my glove might scratch her. My gloves are awesome. I've had them for two years. They're green and so soft on the inside. They're rough on the outside, but that's because they don't have to be soft, and if they were soft on the outside, it would be hard to get where I need to go. They have to be rough, and they don't bother anyone, because no one else touches them. But I think babies are really sensitive and stuff, because they've just gone through a lot and have been protected up until this point. So I use my teeth to take off my glove and touch her cheek. It's probably the smoothest and warmest thing I've ever touched before. I've never felt anything that soft. She blinks at me, and she yawns again and snuggles into her blanket.

"I like her." I look up and wrinkle my nose. That was weird. "Umm, congratulations."

"Thank you, Artie." Aunt Serena looks up at Uncle Harvey. "You know, your uncle and I wanted to ask you a question. A favor, really."

"Okay."

"How would you like to be Doreen's godfather?"

"Me?"

"You."

"But why me?"

"We think you'd be a wonderful godfather."

"What do I have to do?"

"Well at the christening, you'd be there to help us. But after that, it's really up to you. You can treat her like any of your cousins, or even like a little sister."

I distinctly remember that my godfather also gives me birthday presents. Do I have to give Doreen birthday presents? Am I supposed to start now? I mean, technically it's her birth day, but she's only an hour old. And I didn't get her anything. And I don't have a big allowance, and now I have to use that money to get her presents?

But maybe it's not like that. I look down at her, at Doreen, and she looks like she might be smiling. "Do you think she'll be okay with that?"

"I'm sure she already is, Artie."

* * *

We normally don't get together to celebrate a family member's birthday. Most of the time, the birthday falls on a weekday, often during the academic year, so the kids receive birthday cards from aunts and uncles. Doreen's birthday is more of a special occasion, because she's the youngest and by now there's some unspoken agreement (or maybe it's spoken, but no one ever told me) that the task of baby-making has fallen to the next generation. So it won't be for some time.

Still, I'd be over at the Abrams Compound anyway. Doreen's fourth birthday falls on a weekday in late June, and this summer I'm spending a lot of my time here to tutor Ian and Lewis. Most of the time, Mom drives me over on her way to work and more than occasionally picks me up. My lack of car has never been so inconvenient. All my friends are learning or have gotten their licenses. But I can hardly get a license without a car. One of the last things I want to do on my summer break is have to be stuck waiting for someone to take me home. Tina sometimes volunteers, and it's unfortunate that she occasionally receives some of my attitude about it. I can't stop making an ass out of myself, apparently.

Mom drops me off today, because she and Dad will be by in the evening to have dinner here. Ian and Lewis have already outgrown me. I'm cool to the younger cousins for only so long, until they grow up and want to be with kids their own age or go off on their own. It probably doesn't help that I'm their summer tutor. I've become The Man, though I'd like to think I'm nice about it. They see me and immediately head to the table where we do our work. And they grumble about it, but I know the sooner we start, the sooner I can give them a break. While they're taking out their books and papers, I hear small steps from the next room and look over. Little Doreen, now age four, trots into the room and runs right to me. I've tried to discourage the way she hits my legs with her body and squirms up into my lap by catching her with my hands and pulling her up.

"I hear it's someone's birthday today," I tell her as I set her down on my lap.

"Mine!" She wiggles and leans forward to hug me. "My birthday!"

"Your birthday, huh? Do you have a cake?"

"Mommy's going to make it now and I get to help her!"

"That's really cool," I tell her with a smile. "Will it have chocolate?"

"Lots an' lots." She spreads her arms to show me just how much a lot is. "I looooove chocolate."

"I do too. You have good taste. Go help your mom, okay?"

This isn't the last I've heard of Doreen today. It's hard to tutor when a little four-year-old bursts in to show you her apron, then to tell you she got to help mix everything together, then put it in the pans, then put it in the oven, then take it out to cool, _then _that they started making the frosting. Ian and Lewis welcome the distraction, and I have to admit that I have a hard time staying focused with the smell of fresh warm cake wafting through the house.

I call off the work an hour early, because we're not being as productive and I don't have it in me to drill my cousins into submission. Plus I doubt my aunt would like it if I tried. Tutoring is one thing, but I don't have the power of an adult. Not that I want it. They go run around in the backyard, which is just as well, with all the energy they have to burn. I sit in the gazebo and watch them.

A lot of things have happened to me since this time last year. A lot of them have to do with glee club, or at least have something to do with it. I like summer, but I kind of wish we could have glee club without going to school. Rachel was all hyped up about practicing over the summer, and it sounded stupid at the time, but I don't think I'd mind it now. I'd get to see people again, and I don't see them at all now. Except Tina. God I wish Tina were here now. I want to talk with her. I want to hold her or sing horrible songs with her or play guitar while she futzes around my room and crashes on my bed. I want-

Doreen's slammed her little body into my legs again. "You've got to stop doing that," I laugh as I pull her up into my lap. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"Sorry."

She scrambles up and sits. When she stares at me, I wiggle my eyebrows and tickle her stomach. She flails around and squeals as I try to keep her from falling off (I swear it only happened once). She starts panting from laughing so hard, so I stop and she moves in, setting her head on my shoulder and wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Artie?"

"Mhmm?"

"Will you ask me to marry you?"

I squeeze my eyes shut. Holy shit, what is happening? I know kids ask weird things, but this one throws me off. "Marry you?"

"Uh huh."

"You want to marry me, Doreen?"

"Uh huh."

"Why?"

"'Cause you're nice, and you play, an' you're cool."

My first impression is that she's been spending too much time with my cousin Sarah, who is all right but can't stop talking about whoever she's dating. So each story she reads or recites to Doreen has a happy ending with a big wedding and a long and blissful marriage.

The other part, however small it is, is kind of touched. I know it's stupid. I guess it's kind of normal to form unhealthy romanticish bonds to family members. I kind of had a thing for Sarah when we were younger, because she's so pretty and has the most dazzling smile I've ever seen. I never figured I'd be the object of it. It's strange to think about, but sometimes my uncles and aunts forget that I'm still a sixteen-year-old boy. I'm a nerd who doesn't have a lot of friends and can look forward to Dumpster trips and slushie facials in the fall, but I'm still a boy. And to Doreen, I guess I'm just a boy.

"You're cool too. But I'm your cousin and your godfather, so I can't marry you."

"Really?"

She doesn't seem upset, which is what I was preparing to have to deal with. But instead she just seems tired. "Really. But I'll still be around for your birthdays."

"All of them?"

"All of them. I can't miss any, now that I've started. I even went to the one where you were born and didn't have a number yet."

"At th' 'ospital?"

"Yep. You were sooooooooooo small." She laughs and squirms. "You were tiiiiiiiiiiiny and wrapped up tight tight in a blanket." I wrap my arms around her, and she squirms again. "With a little nose." And I bop her nose. "And two pretty little eyes and a small mouth. And then your mom gave you to me and I held you for the first time ever."

"I don't 'member."

"Well I do."

"What'd I say?"

"Nothing. You couldn't talk yet. And you were really tired."

"Know what I would've said?"

"No, what?"

"I would've said, 'Hi, Artie.'"

I smile. "Maybe you did. I said hi to you."

"Hi, Artie."

"Hi, Doreen."

"Hi, Artie."

"Hi, Doreen."

Doreen and I say hi to each other a few dozen times throughout the evening, even when we're supposed to be saying good bye. Dad drives us home and Mom asks what all that was about.

"Just a game."


	2. Chapter 2: One Thing Can Lead to Another

A/N: I suppose it's pretty early for this, but this particular chapter is what got the ball rolling for the whole set of shorts. Many thanks to those who have read and particularly to those who are following! That was a nice feeling and I hope you enjoy the other shorts that fall out of my head. Special thanks also to note-droppers. It's interesting for me to read what you liked and what worked well. The same disclaimers apply.

* * *

In my life, I've had two best friends. And I don't know if it's just unique to me or not, but my best friends never stay within the borders of that label.

Take Tina, for example, since she's sitting next to me in the van. When I met Tina, I didn't have a lot of friends, but neither did she. It took us both awhile to adjust, since we were about as awkward as two teenagers can get. But eventually it took, and I figured I could play the best friend thing again. Until, of course, I conveniently got a massive crush on her. And we all know how _that_ worked out.

We're on our way to my uncle's house, affectionately known as the Abrams Compound, about half an hour from my house. We go there to celebrate most holidays, unless we've made arrangements to visit Mom's side of the family in Oregon. The Fourth of July is one of our biggest holidays, complete with fireworks (both ours and some statewide ones), barbecue and a fire pit for roasting marshmallows, a crazy clan of cousins that swarms like a school of bees, the best red velvet cake in the world (with blueberries; we are _that_ patriotic), and an annual poker game. Since the weather is nice this year, we're also pitching tents and sleeping outside.

Tina, for the record, does not like camping, but I think she's making a concession for the cake. After a big lunch with her parents, complete with the current lull of the moving car and the jazz music and quiet murmur of my parents at the front, we're both feeling kind of sluggish. She sighs and leans against my side with her head on my shoulder. I reach down and slip my hand into hers in her lap, not out of necessity or to fend off any lingering thoughts of loneliness, but just because it feels natural. When she starts to doze, I look out the window and watch as our surroundings grow greener.

Tina's met most of my family, as a whole, at least once. When I started tutoring some of the younger cousins this summer, she made a few appearances to entertain Doreen, my favorite little cousin who I most certainly do _not_ spoil. But not even that can really prepare anyone for the way the Abrams family descends upon arriving members like a tornado. The four of us are at the back of the car starting to unload everything when Hurricane Abrams hits, complete with hugs, kisses, slaps on the arm and back, and the annoying hair tussle. Our trunk has been picked clean of our holiday supplies, leaving Tina to roll me up the path past the three-story house to the back. My uncle and aunt own several acres, complete with two barns, one of which is for the cows (yes, I said cows). But that section is further toward the end of their land. Directly behind the house is a great grassy plain with trees, a fire pit area, and a huge gazebo. The rows of trees almost block your view from the soybean and tomato fields, but to the right there's my aunt's enormous garden filled with fresh vegetables.

Like I said. Abrams Compound.

The barbecue pits are already being put to good use, and Mom's off arranging food in the house. Dad has a beer in one hand and claps me on the shoulder with the other. "Let's get those tents up."

"Kind of early, don't you think?"

He shields his eyes from the sun. "Best to do it now, while we have the energy."

"Yeah, your nap-time is in a few hours, isn't it?"

"_Some of us_ had to endure your mother's Fourth of July ritual at six o'clock in the morning."

My mother has a thing for pulling out every American flag we own and displaying them across the front of the house and turning up the volume of the television during the special holiday programming and parades.

"I was up at seven. More or less," I say as we start on the tent he and my mom will share.

Our elaborate tenting system is set up such that the adults have cleverly placed the young adults between themselves and the younger kids. Like we're supposed to supervise them. Or maybe the adults know we'll stay up late and sleep through the freight train-like giggles and cries for attention in the morning. While I'm arranging the sleeping bags and stuff in our own tent, I look over to see Tina sitting on the ground. Doreen is perched in her lap and swaying a little, as she always does, while Tina tries to braid her hair. Tina prefers the company of the younger cousins more than that of anyone else in the family, and that's a position and preference with which I empathize. They ask a boatload of questions, but they're easily accepting of new people, particularly when those new people join them in games and braid their hair upon request. I've always felt more comfortable around them, even when I can't play with them.

There's a forty minute soccer match consisting of cousins, aunts, uncles, and one fired up grandma who takes up the referee whistle and you'd better not talk back or you'll get a whole lot more than a yellow card. My mom plays too, and she forces my dad to sub in when she gets tired. Tina sits on the ground with me, several yards from the sideline, and after getting bopped in the head with the ball, Doreen is chattering away with her back against my chest.

I snort as I watch my grandmother trot down the field past us. "Grandma's pretty tough, huh?" I ask Doreen, who nods so heavily that her whole body rocks forward and back. I sigh and watch as Charlie gives the ball a good kick down the field that sends everyone sprinting. I know Tina doesn't like sports, but she seems to appreciate watching my family go at it. When I look over, I catch her watching me and I raise my eyebrow.

"Miss it still?" she asks.

It's hard not to. Bethany's a track and field runner. Charlie does crew. And Daniel plays soccer. Even Sarah plays intramural tennis. If my family was bound in Greek mythology, I'd be watching Artemis, Apollo, Hermes, and Athena. It's dorky, but it's so true. And not to say I would have gone into sports if I'd had the chance. I played whatever someone had set up, and that was only at recess or family gatherings. But when the accident first happened, and for years later, I'd get really upset watching everyone play. Looking back on it, though, I'm glad they did. I would have felt terrible if they'd stopped playing for me. And thanks to Bethany, we started a new tradition. But I still miss it.

I look back at Tina and shrug my shoulder. "I'm always going to miss it, Tee." I wiggle my eyebrows at her. "I'd have been a great jock, don't you think?"

She laughs and pushes my shoulder. "Whatever. Football teams don't accept nerds."

"They'd have made an exception for me. I would have gotten the first Letterman jacket."

"I like your sweaters better."

"I noticed. You have about four of them at any given time."

"I want one!" Doreen squeaks.

Tina smirks. "Oh, you want one, huh?" I say as I start tickling Doreen, who flops over and erupts in giggles.

With the soccer match over, they set up the long yellow slip'n'slide and water it down. There's a slight slope to the area they chose, which means my cousins are barreling down at an almost disconcerting speed after a good running start, which might be particularly alarming with the way they tend to roll once plastic runs out and grass starts over again. So of course Doreen want to do it as well, once they've added a few other slip'n'slides. Everything with our family is a competitive sport. Tina leads her by the hand so they can both get changed into their bathing suits.

We have a pretty good view of everything going on from the gazebo, where the annual showdown is about to start. Daniel's already shuffling a deck of cards.

"Currency, boys," Bethany says as she sits down next to me.

Each of us pulls out a bag of candy. Charlie and Daniel brought M&Ms, Bethany has a bag of Reese's Pieces, and I show them a bag of the new Mounds Pieces. We've never used the proper poker chips. These are much more fun.

"Tina didn't want to play?" Charlie asks as we start the third game.

"She hasn't played very much." I glance at my cards, then rearrange them and separate the two I want to replace. "Plus she's got a terrible poker face."

"I think she'd be having more fun beating the pants off of Jimmy and Nikki, anyway."

I glance over just in time to see Tina stand up a few yards away from the end of the middle slip'n'slide. She's grinning from ear to ear as she slicks her hair behind her and pulls Nikki to her feet. I can't help but laugh and return the wave she's sending over. "Yeah. I guess she might be enjoying it."

"Dude, Charlie, cards," Daniel grunts.

"Didn't know you had a pressing engagement," Charlie returns as he deals out.

"Artie, how's your dad?" Bethany asks.

I'm thrown off by the sudden change in subject. "He's okay." I glance over to see that he's still sitting in the lawn chair eating hot dogs with my uncles. He looks tired, and not just because of my mom's early morning wake-up.

My dad's been at his job for the past twenty years. His responsibilities have changed every now and again, in response to demand and growth, but he's even been working with some of the same people that whole time. But company politics and the economic crisis have made the work environment pretty difficult for Dad. Mom says he's not spent this much time at work since I was born, back when they were just sort of getting by on their combined incomes. Sometimes on weekends he'll be at his computer for hours. I know his new manager is a jerk, and I know Dad's worried about his job. He really likes the company, and it would be hard for him to move on, though I know Mom's been trying to encourage him to consider it. It really got bad when I was going to ask him about the possibility of getting a car I could drive, and lessons with said car. Despite the options of getting money from the government, it just seemed like a bad time. He mentions it every now and again, but he's tired and I seem not too terrible at feigning disinterest. Here and now, surrounded by his family, I know he feels better. Secure.

I turn back to my cousins. "He has to go to a meeting in Detroit on Tuesday and stay for a couple of days. Mom's going with him."

"I heard his company handed out layoff notices," Daniel remarks.

"Yeah, but not to his branch. Not yet. He was worried about them."

"It's a crap time to be looking for a job," Charlie says. "Not a lot of hope for our graduating seniors, either."

"Which is why it's a perfect time to do other stuff. Travel to other places and try our luck." This is from Bethany, who will do just about anything once and is as free-spirited as they come.

"You don't have to travel," Daniel points out. "Two cards."

Bethany deals out replacements to us. "No, but why not, you know? There's so much to see and do that we can't do here. Like sure, some of it we can, but haven't you ever wanted to see for yourself the things we can only see in pictures and on television and in movies here?"

"That's your motivation?"

"I just want to see what life is like somewhere else for a change. Do you really want to stay in Ohio for the rest of your life, without having looked anywhere else? Stop looking so smug, Danny boy; your hand sucks."

"Stop peeking," he snaps.

"I don't need to. Even if I weren't psychic. Charlie's going to win this one."

"Bethany!" we all holler.

After everyone but Charlie has folded and he's pulling back his winnings, I look over at Bethany. "Where d'you think you'd go? Would you study abroad?"

She turns to me excitedly. "I'd love to. Depends on how much money I can save up over the next year. There are so many places I can go through the school. I could go to Spain, somewhere in South America. I could take a semester off and go to Africa, or I could go to Australia, or wherever."

"Watch that semester off idea," Charlie warns as he deals out the cards.

"I guess," she says glumly. "I could always do something after school. Like the Peace Corps. I need to read up on it, to see what sorts of things I can do."

"Does it cost a lot of money?" Daniel asks.

"Not sure. Probably depends on where you want to go. Think you'd like to go somewhere?"

He shrugs and looks down at his cards. "I dunno. It's hard thinking about college. If I do, it'll be Ohio State." He brightens a little. "But it'd be cool to do road trips with friends or something."

"Yeah man, those are cool," says Charlie. "The gas is expensive, but if there are a lot of you, it doesn't really matter as much."

"And when have _you_ gone on a road trip?" Bethany asks. "Beside the family ones."

"Those should count too." Charlie and Daniel's parents are really into visiting nearby towns and historical monuments. They've been through something like fifteen states. "And the time I saw you in Illinois, when some of my teammates and I drove over there. Plus, Marjorie wants to drive to New York this summer."

"Their heat wave is nearly as bad as the one in Texas," Bethany says. "Though hey, things with Margie are going well?"

"I swear I'll let her kill you when she hears you call her that." Charlie beams. "But yeah, things are cool. You and whatever-his-name-is too?"

"Will _someone_ make a bet?" Daniel sighs in exasperation.

"Seriously, Danny, ease up. And his name is _Jonathan_. He's hot."

I glance between my two older cousins. Daniel and I are only a few years their juniors, but once Bethany and Charlie went to college, it felt like decades sprouted up between us. All the same, there's always been something. So much of my family is athletically oriented, and that's something with which I can't share. It's not their fault that I felt out of the loop. If anything, they tried to bring me into the circle.

But for as much as I feel outside of their experience, for the first time in a long time, I feel as though I can relate to them. Road trips with friends. I went on one of those for glee club. Spending time with a significant other. I've done that too. And Daniel is in there too, but he seems far less enthusiastic about it. I'm not sure why: he has friends and a girlfriend.

I'm left wondering about what college will be like. I glance over my shoulder and look at Tina. She and my cousins are through with the water slides and are playing Go Fish on beach blankets on the grass. Both Bethany and Charlie had relationships in high school, but they didn't last. Relationships come and go in high school and beyond. I know that. I keep thinking back to what Mr. Scheuster said about us forgetting high school and glee club once we've left. But I also remember pulling Tina aside after that pizza night at Mr. Schue's house, after we'd lamented about how much we would suck at Regionals. That was when I told Tina that it didn't matter what anyone said, that I wanted to be with her and that this wasn't just some stupid high school thing. And I must have been pretty convincing, because she keeps letting me hold her hand.

Suddenly Daniel pushes back from the table and storms across the gazebo and out of sight. I look back between the two remaining cousins, both of whom seem equally stunned.

"Psychic, huh?" Charlie dryly directs to Bethany.

"He's _your_ brother," she snaps back. "God forbid I take a few extra seconds to stay in or fold."

"What happened?" I ask.

"He lost patience with us for moving too slow," Charlie says.

"Oh come on. You know it's not just that, Charlie," Bethany chides.

An uncomfortable silence starts to settle. "So? What is it?" I press.

"It was probably all the relationship talk."

"Why would that bother him?"

"Because he and Heather broke up."

"Oh. Ouch."

"Worse than that, man," Charlie says as he looks at me. "He found out she cheated on him with his best friend."

What the hell is wrong with relationships these days? I'm beginning to think monogamous relationships are freaking few and far between. I don't understand how this happens. You hear about it in the news all the time, but it feels weird when you know the people too. I immediately think back to the situation with Finn, Quinn, and Puck. Talk about complicated. The strange thing is that I haven't thought about it in a really long time. Like I've nearly forgotten that Finn and Quinn were together, and that she slept with Puck, and the whole baby situation when she led Finn on. And what's weirder is that I've grown to like each of them a lot more than I ever thought I would.

"That's really rough," I muse. "That happened with some of my friends at school, in glee club. Like, things have sort of cleared up, but they were really choppy for awhile." I pause. "I'm hoping there are no pregnancy rumors."

"None that I know of."

"There's something, then." I glance over at Bethany, who's smiling. I worry about my well-being when she smiles at me like that. "What?"

She shakes her head and sets her cards down. "We've never heard you talk about friends like that. I mean, this year seems to have been really good for you."

"You haven't seen the slushies."

"Oh stop."

"Or the flagpole episodes."

"Artie-"

"Or the Dumpster trips or port-a-potty escapades."

"Shut up, you jerk." But she's smiling because she knows I'm kidding. Mostly. "You know what I mean. Like ever since this glee club, you have people to talk about. You're talking just as much as ever, but it's been different this year. Not just because of Tina. Though she's a big part of it, I can tell."

I look over just in time to see Tina laughing with Nikki. Tina, who is always beautiful in my eyes, is that much more attractive when she's carefree and happy. And she doesn't let a whole lot of people see that side to her. So I know it's something special whenever I see it, and it's even more amazing when other people can see it too. She feels things so much stronger than most people give her credit for. She has, I think, just as much fear as anyone else, but she's braver than most.

"Yeah, she is." I look at Bethany. "Do you think a lot will change in college?"

"Maybe. Probably." She starts munching on her candy, since it seems as though our annual tradition is on hold until next year. "Look at the difference between your freshman year and this past one. College is new people. A whole new time in your life where you try to figure out who you are."

"What if there are some things you don't want to change?"

She smiles at me. "Everything changes, Artie. But sometimes you want things to change. Have you been looking at colleges?"

"A little," I admit. "I looked at the ones here. And, I don't know, they're okay. I looked at a few in New York, Oregon, and Indiana too."

"Michigan is better," Charlie advises.

"Hardly. Illinois kicks Michigan's ass, but that's not the point," Bethany says. "The point is that it's good that you're looking around. Get ready to apply for those scholarships, because you're a sharp kid, Artie, and I'll bet you'll get one at each place. And if they don't give you money, they don't get you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I tease.

"What about Tina? Has she been looking around?"

"We haven't talked about it much," I say. "But I think she wants to go outside of Ohio too. She looked at New York too but wasn't as interested in the schools I'm looking at." I study Bethany's expression. "You don't think it's stupid that I care about that."

"About wanting to stay near Tina? Hell no. If you weren't thinking about it, I'd assume it was because things aren't so serious. But then again, she's here with us. Did you see the way she plays around with Doreen? She's practically family."

"Bethany, you're such a girl," Charlie teases.

She closes her eyes. "If I pick up an M&M, they'll stay together."

There are several problems with this supposed logic. First off, Bethany is not psychic. Secondly, the odds of her picking up an M&M are pretty damn high, particularly since we have more M&Ms than the combination of the others, and neither Mounds nor Reese's Pieces come in the same green as the one Bethany's picked up. And third, well, Tina and I have been together for a rather turbulent set of months. We talk about being together until we're both in wheelchairs, but there's no end to the adults who pat our heads and say that's very cute (you should see the looks Tina gives them). I think the assumption that we're in some short-lived hormonal puppy love mood is unnecessary, but I guess I understand that there's a lot more life after high school, even if I can't picture it. Hell, I used to happily dream about high school ending tomorrow.

"Anyway, umm, so Daniel's taking things pretty hard?" I ask.

"Happened like a week ago," Charlie informs me. "He's been moping around since then. Doesn't talk to anyone."

"Maybe you should go find him," Bethany tells me.

I raise my eyebrow. "Why me?"

"Out of the three of us, he's probably the least pissed off at you."

"I'm also the one he talks to the least."

"That's because-"

"I know why it is, Bethany," I snap defensively. "And it's not my fault."

"I know it's not," she says in that practical tone that drives me nuts when it's aimed at me. "We all know that. But it's not completely his fault. You were kids at the time, and everyone reacted differently. I can't defend what he did. But you know he's been trying."

"Bethany, look. The yearly card game? It's cool. I like it. I still remember when you started it. And you dragged him into it the first few times, and I know it's different now. This is more about us hanging out than it is about me still doing something with the family since I can't do the other things." I take a deep breath and scratch the back of my neck to buy time, because my thoughts are coming along sluggishly and way too fast all at once, like I'm going to lose my train of thought as I'm talking. "But I mean, what is there to say that will erase the last eight years? I don't think anything can do that, or we would have done it. I'm not his best friend anymore."

"But you're a good listener," she counters sharply and in such a way that I'd better not interrupt her (she gets this from our grandma, of course). "And that's what he needs. And you know where he is."

She'd like me to believe she'll be able to tell if I'm just pulling her leg and don't actually try to find Daniel. Like I'll show just enough guilt later on when everyone has moved on to other things. I refuse to believe she's any sort of conscience to me, but I really don't have it in me to push against her. Quite frankly, I'll feel like crap about it later. I always do. I hate it when she does that.

I'm fumbling over my memories as I switch paths, from a smooth cement one to a foot-worn bumpy one. When the accident happened, Bethany used to come to the hospital, and then to my house, to play card games with me. It was her idea to set up the annual poker match between the four of us at Fourth of July celebrations. Our currency was always candy, mostly M&Ms, and we got really good at poker. It was her idea, and I appreciate it. It's not just about me anymore. Maybe, well. Maybe it never really was. Quite frankly, she's right, in that everyone reacted differently, and awkwardly, to my situation. But it hurt a lot worse when it came from Daniel.

This path is not very wide and hardly smooth, so my taking it in the wheelchair is an otherwise terrible idea. I should have asked someone to take me, in all likelihood, but I didn't. I was banking on Daniel being where I thought he was most likely to be, because it was one of our best hiding spots from way back when. And there he is, sitting with his back against the trunk of a curvy tree. I notice the sun lightens his hair significantly as I roll closer. There's no point trying to cover up my presence; he probably heard me a few minutes back. I stop several feet to the side of him and lock my wheels out of precaution. All I need is to start slipping down the small hill. From here you have a really great view of a few beautiful acres of my uncle's land.

Daniel's looking sullen, which is not an altogether unfamiliar expression on his face, but it has a way of making him appear childish. He stares at the ground, and I stare at my hands. This was where we had all our play fights, with long sticks for swords. Trees were houses or pirate ships. The ground was ideal for burying treasure. We'd be out here for hours, running around in circles and enjoying a fairly easy life. Nothing bad ever happened to us, but I know I always figured we'd be there for each other.

I look at him now, and though I really don't want to, I can feel the hurt all over again. It wasn't bad enough being in the hospital, feeling so alone when there were so many people around me. They told me it'd be all right, that I was lucky that I could go on living. And they were right, but I didn't see it at the time. I saw people change around me. People I'd known all my life were shifting, and I needed someone to stand still. I needed, well. I'd needed Daniel, and he couldn't make himself stay in the room for more than five minutes. He couldn't look at me or be there for me. Even as I study his face now, I know it was kind of unfair of me to put so much pressure on him when he was probably similarly upset. How could we still be best friends when we couldn't play out here anymore? Maybe it felt as though someone had taken me away from him. But it was one thing for me to truly be taken way, and quite another for me to still be there, in the same body and with the same heart, only in a slightly altered state. It wasn't entirely his fault that the distance sprang up between us. We both lost out.

"I guess they told you."

"About Heather? Yeah."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I know." He looks up at me warily. "I, well. There's this guy I know. He's kind of a friend. Anyway, he went through something too. He didn't talk about it, and that was okay for him. But we could tell how hurt and pissed off he was." (Mostly because he'd started beating the snot out of Puck and then left the club right before we left for sectionals, but I figured Daniel didn't need those details.)

"I don't know if it would be better if she'd been with someone else. Or if he'd-" He grunts. "But now I can't trust either of them. I just hate them for doing this to me."

"How'd you find out?"

"Matt told me." Matt being his best friend. "He said he was sorry, that it was a mistake and all that garbage. And Heather acts as if I was screwing up all the time and forcing her to leave the relationship. I don't get it."

She sounds like a winner. "Neither do I. You think Matt means it?"

"I guess so." He takes a long pause. "It's like, I don't get how he could do it. At least he didn't try to justify it."

"Though if he had, you could have punched him."

He actually laughs a little. "Yeah. That would have felt good. Didn't get to do that." He looks at me. "What would you do if Tina and your best friend did that?"

That's almost exactly the question I've been trying to block out. His saying it doesn't help me as I scramble through unpleasant scenarios. We've had enough difficulty without me going there. "Well, she _is_ my best friend, cliché as it is." I don't know what I'd do with the best friend. I have a bad habit of not giving Tina the chances she deserves. But I would think her going off with someone else would mean she doesn't want to be with me. I twist uncomfortably. I have the overwhelming urge to hug her. "But it would suck. I don't know what I'd do. Bad enough to lose one person I'm close to. To lose two would… the world would be full of suck," I finish with a lack of eloquence. And given that I really only have a small number of friends, to chop that number would leave me in a really unhappy place. Probably worse than before. "Are you going to talk to Matt?"

"I don't know. He's called a couple times since then but that was days ago. I could." He looks out over the scene ahead of us. I start to do it too, but he looks very pointedly at me. _Should I?_

The expression is clear as day, but it takes me awhile to decipher it, for a variety of reasons. I'd never expect him to ask me anything of the sort, not just because we're not close, but also because I already said I would have not a clue on what the hell to do, and it's hardly part of my everyday life. Why ask me? It seems like a design flaw to ask your childhood best friend about a situation like this. Or maybe it isn't. Not if he doesn't want things to fail the same way twice. Granted, I didn't cheat with his girlfriend. But in a weird way, it almost makes sense.

But I don't know what he should do. And I don't want to be cryptic, because he hates that and so do I. And he's kind of answered his own question. "Dude. Call him."

He nods, and I turn and start the difficult journey back to the gazebo. I'm struggling over a branch that I swear wasn't there before, when I feel Daniel behind me as he gives me the push I need. "You know, you and Tina together, that's cool."

I glance up at him and smile. "Yeah. Thanks."

He pushes me up to the point where we're back on cement again. The sky has a faint tint of pink, because the sun will start setting in less than an hour's time. There's dinner to barbcue, and a camp fire to set up. I'm really mindful of the fact that I've been away from Tina for at least a couple of hours. She went off of her own volition, of course, but that's still a long time when you take into account that I invited her to be here with my family, and she came because of me. I'm a crap host.

Tina's sitting in a lawn chair not far from where they're setting up the fire pit. The grass makes an abrupt stop to leave a circle several yards in diameter around the fire pit. She looks over her shoulder and stands up, though she is visibly cautious since Daniel is still next to me. Most people interpret that for shyness, but I think I know a bit better by now. When Daniel peels off for the gazebo, she approaches and effortless folds herself into my lap. "Everything okay?" she asks, and I can tell she's a touch worried.

I smile and stroke her sides. "Yeah. Everything's fine. Having fun beating my cousins at everything?"

"Yep." She beams and curls her arms around my neck. "I considered coming up for your poker game, but we were having our own fun."

"I saw. You could have joined us. I'd have lent you some chips. Though I hold the line at you sitting on my lap and playing with me. Your poker face is not so good in poker."

"Shut up," she laughs as she pinches my arm. "They said burgers should be done in like twenty minutes."

"Cool. Then we'll make s'mores and experience the singing (which you're taking part in, in case there was any sort of question about it). And yes, there's country. Stop making that face."

"And then fireworks." It's hard to mistake the excitement in her eyes. It does these weird things to my stomach every time.

"Lots of fireworks," I agree with a confident nod.

And it's like she falls into my embrace. She smells like grass and popsicles and fruit and a little like the grill. And lavender. She almost always smells like lavender and I have absolutely no idea why. I keep forgetting to ask. She settles down with her head against my shoulder, and I have to twist slightly to look at her. Her hand reaches up to press against my chest over my heart.

"I love you," I whisper.

She doesn't lift her head from my shoulder, but she looks up at me, and it's not just the pink in the sky that reflects on her cheeks. Telling Tina that I love her has been one of the scariest things I've ever done. But it's also one of the most rewarding, because I know it's true. She never overreacts during these exchanges, few as they've been. She smiles shyly and bunches my shirt in her fingers, like she almost always does.

"I love you too, Artie."

Between us we put away about three and half burgers, a slew of grilled vegetables, and four pieces of cake. I can't tease Tina about her food coma because I'm right there with her. Thankfully, dinner is a nearly two hour ordeal, with a lot of discussion and plenty of story-telling. The younger kids can never sit still all that long, but Tina and I are effectively passed out in my chair next to my cousin Sarah. There's a lot of talk about what life was like when my dad was even younger than I am today, back when the older generations took care of this plot of land. Sometimes they tell the same stories over and over again, but my dad and uncles laugh just as hard now as they did when they were going through everything so many years ago. The older cousins, the ones who aren't playing with the kids, sit back and listen. It's not really our time to talk.

The discussions continue as we move over to the fire pit, where Charlie and Daniel have a good fire going with some questionable blocks of wood. Cue about fifteen marshmallows being roasted on sticks and stretched-out clothes hangers, with at least five marshmallows on fire at any given time. Tina tries her hand at it and squeals when my cousin Nikki tosses around her lit marshmallow. (Tina's not a huge fan of fire.) She strolls toward me with a pout and a blackened marshmallow at the end of her stick. I peel off and eat the burned skin and squeeze the rest between the chocolate and graham cracker and offer it to her. She happily munches on her messy treat and rewards me with a sticky kiss on the cheek. Doreen takes over my lap and orders that I make her the perfect s'more, so of course I do. I patiently roll the marshmallow just over the flame, then pull it back and assemble her treat. She gets crumbs and chocolate all over herself, not to mention her mouth is stained with gooey chocolate and marshmallow. She only gets off when Tina wanders over and offers me my guitar. Charlie's off setting up the fireworks with Bethany and the uncles, but Daniel's sitting on the other side of the fire with his own guitar, and we play around before my mother urges us to actually play some patriotic songs. Tina sits in the chair next to mine and sings along with everyone else. Her voice still blows me away. Even when I'd be inclined to sing as loud as possible, I prefer to hold back a little and accent her own voice.

Before the big fireworks, we like to do our own. The kids (and some of the kid-like adults) run around with sparklers and coo with pride as the fireworks scream and swirl across the darkened sky. They got some really good ones this year, mostly in patriotic colors. Sarah squeezes my shoulder as a few gold ones explode above our heads. They're her favorite. Doreen and Tina flash by with fizzing white sparklers.

"Hold on tight, buddy."

"What?" I glance behind me and see Bethany standing next to Sarah. And I don't like the way they're smiling. "What are you-"

"Hey Danny, race to the post." She hands me a sparkler. "Hold on tight, now."

"But-"

And I have no idea what I would have said. Bethany and Sarah have each taken an arm and handle of the chair and are pushing me as fast as they can toward an old fence. Daniel has a sparkler as well and is racing next to us. My only thought is "WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Despite their best efforts, we lose the race. But I'm pretty sure I've never enjoyed losing so much, no doubt also due to the fact that both Sarah and Bethany each fold an arm around me to keep me from flying out of my chair as we slide to a stop. My dozens of cousins flow around us, their sparklers fizzing as they giggle and shriek. I can't help but laugh as they trot and dance around. They sound like that canned children laughter you hear in car commercials. But in a good way.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I already know who it is. Tina consistently applies the same amount of pressure to my shoulder, with her fingers curved into a gentle hold. I know it sounds stupid, and how could I possibly know it, but I swear I get the same feeling from it each time. It's the combination of speed and pressure that just tells me it's her.

I look up at her, and she's holding a sparkler in her free hand.

"Gee, Tee, you look like freedom."

She gives me a salute, then laughs and kisses my cheek. "We could have a wand contest." She waves her sparkler, and we both laugh when mine goes out. "Or not."

"Next time," I promise.

She stands in front of me and hands me her sparkler. "Can we go off on our own for a little while?" she asks quietly.

I nod. "Can you get the blanket from our tent? I want to show you something. We'll have a great view of the fireworks."

Tina sets the blanket on my lap and wheels me along the cement path. We can still see my family setting out similar blankets and sleeping bags on the grass so they can lie out and watch the sky. The younger cousins have been ordered to change into their pajamas. Some of the older adults stick to the lawn chairs. Sleeping on the ground will be hard enough on their backs, so they're delaying the inevitable. I can understand that.

I direct Tina to follow a dirt path up the small hill. I know it's hard for her, because we can't really see that well. But even if I hadn't taken this path earlier today, I'd still remember it like a favorite song. She seems relieved once the trees thin and we approach the clearing. We roll out the blanket and settle down on it.

"We're going to bed like right after this, aren't we?" she asks me as she crawls on top of me.

"Yeah. Well, some of the others will stay up around the fire. But most of them will go to sleep." I can easily make out her expression since she's so close. "Tired?"

"Kinda." As if on cue, she yawns into her hand. "Long day." When I nod, she rubs her hand over my shoulder. "I know we'll be alone in the tent too. I just kind of wanted some more time to ourselves."

"You're so selfish," I tease.

"You bet."

"Seriously, though, it's cool. My family is overwhelming. And we were with them all day."

"I'm pretty confident I'll actually get a good rest. Even when sleeping on the ground."

"The air mattress should help. And extra layers."

She settles down over me. With my hand on her hip, I can feel her move her legs, presumably around my own. It's strange knowing that someone's touching you and you can't feel it. It's beyond wondering if it counts or not. If it's ever bothered Tina, she's never said anything about it or looked uncomfortable. She just accepts it and moves me around to embrace her the way I would if I could, like she's read my mind.

"I talked to Daniel today."

She tilts her chin up, though I can't see her face from this angle, but I know she's paying attention. I curl my other arm underneath my head and rub her side. "Not a lot. But it was cool."

She rubs my shoulder. "That's good."

"We used to play here all the time when we were kids. We'd climb this tree, play all sorts of games and run around like crazy."

"Sounds like you."

"This was one of our secret spots too. Once you look down, it's a wonder no one else finds it, because it's not exactly conspicuous. But getting here takes time and a good path. People don't see it so well from down there."

I don't expect her to say anything or react. She's better at listening than I give her credit or opportunity for. But she pulls herself forward so her face hovers over mine. "Did you watch fireworks here with him?"

"Yes."

"Until the accident?"

I nod. "Today is actually the first time I've been up here for eight years." I look down and stroke her side. "And I wanted you to see it."

She nods and kisses my jaw. "Thanks. For sharing it with me."

"It's been awhile since I reminded you that you're my best friend, huh?" I ask with a smile.

"You're lucky I've got a good memory, Abrams," she teases. "I still remember."

I smirk up at her and sigh when she leans down and kisses me. For as much as I enjoy her being my best friend, I'm almost equally fond of this part. Aside from this moment, when I'm kissing her and threading my fingers in her hair, I can think about how much we've been through and decide we wouldn't be nearly such great best friends if we weren't also romantically involved. But I also think I wouldn't be such a good boyfriend if I wasn't also her best friend. Because I've never had just a best friend or just a girlfriend (hah), so maybe this is just the only way I know how to make it work. With Daniel, of course, it was different. Just because we were cousins didn't mean we'd had to be best friends, but it certainly helped. Labels are messy. But as the fireworks start and a shiver of excitement and arousal travels through Tina's body and she breaks the kiss, I'm pretty sure I'm a fan of messy. She rolls over and uses my stomach for a pillow. I curl one arm under my head again, and she takes my free hand with hers and threads our fingers together over her stomach.

The faire fireworks are more impressive than our own in terms of quantity and quality, but I love ours all the same. These ones light up the sky, sending streaks in all directions and seemingly filling up everything. Sometimes it's like you're wearing 3D glasses. I especially like the ones that look like Saturn. Tina hums and coos appreciatively. The funny thing is that I think she would have enjoyed being down with my family and cooing along with them. Maybe next year.

After fifteen minutes, the fireworks fade from the sky. We can barely make out the ever-changing shape of the smoke as it curls in the air. Tina and I join the family again. Some of the younger kids complain about having to go to bed. The other half, including Doreen, are already asleep and tucked away in their tents. Most of the adults are making sure all fires are out and that materials are put away. Charlie and Bethany maintain a fire to tell ghost stories to some of the cousins. Tina and I take turns using the bathroom to wash faces and brush teeth before saying good night to my family and crawling into our tent.

"I still can't believe you sang Garth Brooks," Tina says as she completely zips up the tent.

"You were singing too, by the end," I counter as I fold up my chair and pat the air mattress that my parents filled up for us. "It's required at a camp fire, you know."

"With all my previous camping experience?"

"That's why we got an air mattress. It's pretty full."

"And two sleeping bags."

We smirk at each other. "Yeah."

"Okay, now turn around." She rolls her eyes when I lift an eyebrow. "So I can change."

I grumble good-naturedly and turn away to unroll my sleeping bag. In the course of our relationship, there have been instances where we've lost a little clothing. Or sometimes it's felt like there wasn't any clothing between us anyway. But for the most part we've sort of taken things slow as far as rounding bases is concerned, and that's fine with me. Especially when she tells me to turn around and she's wearing a sleeping tee and stretch pants.

"Your turn." I scowl when she just perches on the mattress and keeps her eyes on me. "Privacy?"

"Nonexistent." She laughs when I keep staring. "Oh come on. You're only going to change your shirt and pants. I know you wear boxers. You're not revealing anything I haven't seen or felt before."

"Double standard," I mumble as I pull off my shoes and socks, then my shirt. It's weird because she's totally right, and yet I've almost never felt so self-conscious. I can feel her watching me as I pull on a night tee and rummage for my pajama bottoms. I'm entirely aware that it takes me a long time to take my pants off and pull my pajamas on, and I hate how long it takes me to do such a simple thing. But she doesn't say a thing. There's something really intimate involved when you change in the same room as your significant other, I think. When I look at Tina again, I have the satisfaction of seeing that she's as red as I feel, but beyond that, she's a mixture of calm and eagerness. Or maybe that's just me.

She waits while I pull myself into the sleeping bag, then crawls in next to me, pulls the flap over us, and zips up the side. "Pretty close quarters," I say awkwardly as I settle on my back.

"Not intimidated by me, are you, Abrams?" she asks as she curls up on her side with her hand on my stomach.

She's hardly so smug after I kiss her hard and lick her lips.

"Can you lie on your side?" she asks with her chin on my chest.

"Hmm? Kind of. I can't balance very well. Why? I don't take up _that_ much room, and you're not hesitant about using me as a pillow."

"I kind of wanted to spoon," she says quietly.

"Oh." I frown in thought. I note her tone as meaning she really wants it, a quiet little desire. "We can try."

She can't help but be a bit clumsy as she shuffles around so that she's on her side with her back facing me. She took nearly half the sleeping bag in the process. I prop up on my elbows, then somehow roll so that I bump into her. Her soft laugh is muffled slightly by the pillow, and I pull my legs with me so that I'm leaning against her but swaying slightly. She looks over her shoulder at me, then lifts the sleeping bag flap to see what I've done. And then she reaches down and grabs my leg and pulls it over hers. I start to protest as I fall into her.

"Tee-"

"Uncomfortable?"

"Well, no, but-"

"I like it."

I prop up and look down at her face. She beams up at me. "I'm not squashing you?"

"No. You're like an extra heavy blanket."

I shake my head and slowly relax against her. I try to loosen the arm that's keeping me attached to her and nudge the elbow into the mattress, and she folds my hand around hers and presses them against her chest. Much as I love her hair, I have to push the ponytail out of the way and eventually just let it hang over my head on the pillow, and I nuzzle the back of her neck.

"How do I love you? Well let me see. I love you like a lyric loves a melody," I whisper with a rhythm in her ear.

She trembles. "Artie," she warns.

"Baaaaaaaby, compleeeeeeeeetely, wrapped up in you."

"Stop that."

So now I really get into it, complete with squeezing her hand to the beat. I also might have upped the volume slightly. You can't get into the heart of that song at a whisper. "Every now and then when the world that we're living in's craaaaaaaazy, you gladly hold me-"

"Not for long."

"And carry me through. No one in the world's ever done what you did for me, and I'd be sad and lonely-"

"Artie," she groans.

"If there were no youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu."

"I swear I'll go sleep in Bethany's tent."

"But you love me. Besides, we're all mixed up together. Your idea."

"No more country," she says firmly. "Much as I love your voice."

"You know, John Denver sang country."

"He wasn't a country singer. He was folk."

"Babe, he was country too. 'Thank God I'm a Country Boy'? Country."

"Debatable."

"He won album of the year in 1974 from the Academy of Country Music. _And_ in 1975 he was the Country Music Association's Entertainer of the Year."

"Your encyclopedic spewing is not so sexy at the moment, Artie."

"Because you know I'm right."

"I'm going to bed."

"We're already in bed."

She sighs dramatically and nudges her face into the pillow. I smirk and gently kiss the back of her neck before trying to settle down. It takes me awhile, and I'm all too aware of every little movement I make that keeps her up, but eventually I get comfortable and tuck my chin over her shoulder, and she sighs peacefully.

"Artie?"

"Hmm?"

"You're my best friend too."

"I know, Tee."

"Artie?"

"Mm?"

"You feel really good."

My face warms. "So d'you."

She shivers in delight. "Good."

"Tee?"

"Yeah?"

"We've known each other a long time, right? And you know I've always liked you-"

She starts to chuckle appreciatively. "Stop proposing to me, Abrams. I swear you're going to give me a complex."

I smirk and snuggle down against her. "Love you."

"Love you too, babe."

I fall asleep thinking that, if and when I _do_ propose to Tina, my best friend/girlfriend, I'd better do a damn good job.


End file.
